


You Are

by Rika_Hatsuya



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Bullying, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:08:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rika_Hatsuya/pseuds/Rika_Hatsuya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are<br/>* bullied<br/>* tired<br/>* sick of it<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are

**Author's Note:**

> [[Feelings.]]

 

** You Are **

It seems like lately it always comes back to this; you on your bed, icing your developing bruises. Thank every being above and below it was Friday. You could reflect on the week and maybe, _maybe_ , nurse your sore ribs back to health. 

Your name is John Egbert, and this has quickly become your routine. 

Go to school.  
Try to make the grades.  
Fail at that.  
Worry about those douchebags that wait for you in the hall.  
Get the ever-loving crap beat out of you.  
Earn new bruises for being alive.  
Pray for the weekend.  
Lick your wounds.  
Get ready to go back to school on Monday. 

You are getting real tired of this sh*t. 

It's not fair. It's not that you're weak or pathetic, okay, maybe a little pathetic, but there are just more of them than you. There is always more of them than you. If it was one on one you might stand a chance; but there is always a group of them, and you're always alone.

Alone. Your friends living thousands of miles away. Sure they support you, but they can't really be there for you. They can't stop the fists that connect with your jaw, or the words that remind you that you are worthless. They can't see the scars you have accumulated over the last few weeks. They can't stop you or remind you to keep your mouth shut. 

If only you had kept your mouth shut. 

 

It all happened your first quarter of school. You were the new kid. The kid that was previously home-schooled. The kid that hadn't had much interaction with other kids. The kid that made an easy target. 

You were marked as "fresh meat" and left to your own devices.

You remember thinking you could do this. School was a new exciting world! Maybe others would like your taste in movies. Maybe they would like pranking! Maybe you could invite them over. Maybe you could convince your Dad to let you go to their home. Maybe you could tell your internet friends about all your new experiences. 

You weren't ready for the names, but they were just names. What could they really do? You remember thinking that you could take whatever name they came up with and threw your way. They were just words. Your internet friends reminded you that words couldn't harm you if you didn't let them. Names didn't mean anything. Words couldn't hurt you. Always words. Only words. 

Until the day you couldn't stop your own words. 

 

That day had been particularly bad. You work up to an empty house, your Dad leaving earlier and earlier. You got to school a little late after being drenched on your way. You spent your first period drying off in the restroom. When you finally made it to your second period you were late. You'd forgotten to grab a snack on the way out of the house and your stomach reminded you loudly as you tried to sneak in the back door of the room. The day did not pick up or get better. It was an all around terrible day. 

It was the day you should have kept your mouth shut. It was the day when the words turned to fists and swift kicks. 

If only you hadn't said those words. 

If only your friends weren't so far away. 

If only you had stopped yourself.

But you can't take them back now. They were out there. They were the cause of your pain. They marked you as a target. 

 

You curl in on yourself on your bed. Your computer beckons you with colorful text from your friends. Rather than talk to them you curl up and replay the day. Replay the weeks. Replay that fateful scene. 

As you drift off to sleep you find yourself murmuring those three little words that started this all: 

"No, you are."

**Author's Note:**

> [[I don't really know where this is going. Probably nowhere. I'm sure there are a hundreds of better writers who can write the same thing with more skill. Probably a one-shot. I'm lazy and awful.]]


End file.
